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Trumpets' fanfare, riding, riding
'Neath the Blue and Red,
Gallopped Marshal Jimmy Donald
While the Tunak fled.

Marshal Jim rode off the valley
Down to Tunak-land;
Rounding off the sub-bots and
The Kumars' brutal hand.

Raise the standard, sons of iron!
Charge, ye horsemen brave!
Soar, ye warplanes, into battle,
We've got lives to save!

Marshal Jimmy, our commander,
You direct the way!
Through the dim and crooked darkness
To a bright new day.
Seanathon Sep 2019
There is the immediate air out of which you breathe
And those who live for it
And those who see the effects of the breeze
And attempted to speak for it
This is the politest way I've found to put it. Though neither is wrong, they're just different.
Seanathon Jul 2019
I am not a stream
Nor a babbling brook
I am a pond with a passing ripple
A sinking stone, thrown, once shook
With a shake often and aware of it
I am never content
With the soft waters unbroken
As a stream I am not known
Stirring Mind
Perdue Poems Apr 2019
A feeling
Stirring
Beating
Buh-boom buh-boom

A dance
Partners
Warming
One two one two
Hugoose Feb 2019
Stuck and Contorted Within A Space of Remarkable Silence, Your Room Sits Still, Mind Whirring Away Half-Heartedly

Walls Closing Inwards Like Heavy Iron Doors, Doors That Both Slam and Stub Your Spirit

Your Physical Appearance Takes A Dive to The Bottom of Your Worries, Thinking of Nonsense That Only You Believe Is Important

Days Pass by Your Closed Windows, You Don’t Care Which Way the Wind Blows
Seanathon Sep 2018
Pieces of you scatter and sway  
       With every footstep underneath

Like a string of steps beneath the sea
       My hope is silt
       And my thoughts are of you

Though the tides may turn
       On a direful coin
       As they press for only the most history true

It’s forever in memory and in mind
       And in the quiet corners of my conscious mind
       Where you will be

Drifting like the sparkling sands
       Are the memories of you renewed
It's hard to let go of a pleasant memory. For me, something stunning and ironic keeps on resurfacing in my personal life. A song, a saying, etc. Suddenly it will just click for me mentally, stirring up the past like a cloud of silt at the bottom of the ocean.

And most difficult of all is that I WANT to be there. Such a beautiful sight is hard not to revisit. But I cannot survive beneath the sea. I'm not a fish.
Michael Lechner Feb 2017
The Sacred
is as present in
The Profane
as the wind in
the stirring of
the leaves

© Michael Lechner
Rockie Jun 2015
She's an emotional cocktail
With thoughts stirring up inside
What is she gonna do with them?

Emotional intelligence
It's for the ones with ideal solutions
What's the scientists gonna do with it?
Zainab Attari Apr 2015
Spinning in darkness
Battling to gain her senses
Sips down her coffee.

-Zainab Attari
Hey guys, this is my first Haiku and I would love to get some feedback :) Thanks!

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